


The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

by AshenArrow



Series: Thin Ice [4]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Dinner, Christmas Presents, F/M, Family Drama, Family Issues, Gen, Meeting the Parents, Secret Identity, Women in the NHL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21914059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshenArrow/pseuds/AshenArrow
Summary: Christmas eve with her parents doesn't go very well, but Christmas dinner with Jace's family makes up for it.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: Thin Ice [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545589
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

December 2019 / @ home in New York for Christmas Break

  


Sid offered to take me to Cole Harbour with him for Christmas with his family about a week ago, and I was fully set on doing just that. My oldest brother, Aidan, has somehow convinced me to go home to New York instead, which is why I’m currently taking an Uber from the airport on what has to be the slushiest days of the year. My driver keeps casting me curious looks in the mirror like he doesn’t think I notice, but I get it. I’m only becoming more and more of a wreck the closer we get to my childhood home.

My younger brother, Dylan, will already be there. He’s only 17. Brayden’s 22 and still in college for his nursing degree, so he should already be there, a well. Aidan, the guy that convinced me to do this stupid thing that I’m already regretting, won’t be here until later, at least by a couple of hours. He has to pick up his fiancé, Amelia, first. I like her, she’s really nice, and all, but I’ve always gotten along with Aidan the best and he was going to be a sort of security blanket for the next few days. I just have to go into the house and deal with my parents’ wrath all by myself. Aidan was the only one to actively defend me back when I dropped out of college to sign with the AHL.

I thank the Uber driver once he pulls up to the familiar blue house, making a mental note to rate him five stars for not sticking his nose in my business. I hardly recognize my reflection in the window as I close the door. I went to the bathroom once my flight landed and clipped a bunch of extensions into my short boy hair. It looked ridiculous on its own, but I look like a normal girl with a beanie tucked over all of it. I even made sure it was a Rangers hat for good measure, because even if someone were to recognize my face as I walked out of the women’s restroom, they would also know that Chris Holden wouldn’t be caught dead in any Rangers merchandise.

I still have the house key my parents gave me back in college. They refused to give me one until then, making it their mission to suffocate the hell out of me all the way up to high school graduation. It was a wonder I managed to hide playing college hockey from their for as long as I did. It was only my first season, but that’s saying a lot considering how restrictive they were.

I let myself in through the front door and carefully undo my shoes, placing them on the floor by the door. They’re wet with the slush from outside and my mom has always been crazy about anyone wearing shoes in the house.

They’re all conveniently in the living room already.

“Hi,” I say awkwardly, standing in the doorway to the room.

“Cal,” Dylan splutters. Brayden doesn’t look surprised, though, and neither do my parents, so Aidan must have told everyone but Dylan. “I didn’t know you were coming!” he exclaims, standing and maneuvering around the couch to give me a big bear hug. I smile, squeezing back. Things are almost normal.

“Callie,” my mom says woodenly once Dylan has released me. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to see you guys, too,” I reply, pasting a smile onto my face and trying to feel as happy as I’m attempting to look. “It’s been…a while.”

“It has,” my dad agrees, sipping at his tea. Green tea, like always.

“Well, I brought presents,” I say, dropping my backpack of clothes to the side in favor of unzipping the small duffel bag of gifts. “Should I just…under the tree, like always?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” my mom agrees.

I weave around all of them, dropping to my knees to tuck everything in the little space left under the large synthetic evergreen. We’d never spent the time buying a real tree before.

I try not to look at all the tags on the gifts already there, but can’t help catching glimpses. There’s a lot of stuff under the branches, but none of them have my name on them. I’m not sure what I expected, but that definitely wasn’t it. I finish up and put the empty bag by my backpack before I can fully dwell on anything.

It would appear that Dylan read the room, because he’s moved over to sit closer to mom so I don’t have to sit next to her. Dad’s in his recliner, his feet kicked back as always. We all sit there, the tension obvious in the room, and watch Elf.

Things start to go wrong quicker than I thought they would.

“Would you take that hat off?” my mom finally says, the first words directed at me in the last thirty minutes. “You know I don’t like hats on in the house.” She’s right. I do know that.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” I agree. This is going to end in a fight either way. Take the hat off and remind her I’ve been pretending to be a boy for the last year or so, or keep it on and ignore her.

I tug the beanie off and unclip the extensions one by one, tucking them into the hat without looking up from my lap.

“Wow, Cal, you kinda look like Aidan,” Brayden says, nudging me with his elbow. He even runs a hand through it.

“That’s the point,” I agree.

“So, what, you just walk around looking like that all day every day, now?” my mom snarks.

“Well, yeah, I kinda have to,” I say a little slower than normal.

“You don’t _have_ to do anything, Callie. You could’ve just finished college and gone to med school, but it’s clear that your goals are a little misguided.”

“Misguided?”

“Your father and I gave up a lot to send to you to that school. To raise you to be a successful doctor. You were excited when you graduated high school. You wanted to be a doctor. Then some coach at that school roped you in and messed everything up,” she replies.

“I never wanted to be a doctor,” I say, looking across Dylan and Brayden to see her properly. “You wanted me to be a doctor. I didn’t even want to be in medicine at all.”

“And, what? We were just supposed to feed a fantasy? Let you devote your entire life to a sport that doesn’t even mean anything?” dad finally pipes up.

“All you had to do was support me,” I say quietly. “Maybe not even what I was doing. Just respect my choices. You couldn’t even do that.”

“Why would we support something as violent as that?” my mom replies, outraged.

“Because I’m your child? You’re supposed to support me, not try to force what you want for me onto me. I had to go behind your back to do the one thing I enjoy the most in the world because I knew you’d both freak out on me if you found out and you know what? I was right. That’s exactly what you did.”

Brayden and Dylan are silent. I can understand Dylan not saying anything. He still lives with them. They still read his text messages and call him every twenty minutes when he’s out with friends. Brayden is away for college a majority of the time, though, and he’s no longer completely under their thumb. I can’t say that it doesn’t hurt a little that he has nothing to say.

“Hockey is violent. It’s a waste of time. It contributes nothing to society. There’s no benefit to it,” my mom insists.

“Hockey’s given me a lot more than either of you have. I have people who actually care about _me_ now, not just of making sure I do what they want,” I argue back.

She grins harshly.

“You really think they’re all going to be there for you when someone eventually recognizes you and everyone finds out who you really are? You really think they’ll still let you play knowing you’re a woman? They won’t. They’ll all leave you behind.”

I stand up suddenly. I really shouldn’t have come home for Christmas.

“Do you know what they call me? They call me a generational talent. I’m leading the rookies in points this year, ahead of guys who had a head start by playing in juniors and all kinds of things because they weren’t being controlled by their parents!” I exclaim. I rub a hand down my face, annoyed that I’ve just resorted to bragging to prove a point. I shouldn’t even have to do that. “I’m…I’m tired. I’m gonna go lay down, take a nap.”

I grab my backpack off of the floor and head up the stairs to my old bedroom. Nobody says anything or tries to stop me.

My room is exactly as I left it when I left for the A. My favorite things are missing because I took them all along with me, knowing full well it would be a while before I came back here. There are pictures ranging from high school all the way back to middle school still pinned to my walls. Honor roll certificates are up there, too, even though I didn’t really want them there. Mom insisted. She talked about med school daily back in high school.

I dig through my bag for my bottle of migraine medication because I can already feel one coming on. I take one and tug the remaining blanket on my bed around me, wishing I could fall asleep and wake up back in Pittsburgh.

A hand on my shoulder startles me awake. I slap it away, ready to fight, before remembering where I am. Right. Home.

“Hey,” Aidan says with a soft smile. “I take it that it didn’t go well?”

I sit up and shrug my blanket off.

“No, it didn’t,” I reply, shaking my head.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, moving to see down by my legs. “I really thought they’d be over it by now, or at least mostly over it.”

“I don’t think they’re ever going to be over,” I mutter back. “Especially not mom.”

He smiles sadly, running a hand down my arm.

“You still have me no matter what,” he says. “And Brayden. Dylan, too, if we can get to him in time. Mom’s kind of been on a warpath since you left. I have no idea the kind of shit she’s been spewing to him.”

I sigh, rubbing at my forehead tiredly. I’ve thankfully warded off a full blown migraine, but it’s still a headache.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just a headache. I have medication for it.”

He frowns.

“Did you get a concussion or something? Already?” he asks.

“No, it’s…more complicated than that. They started in Boston, so I got prescribed something for it. They’re brought on by stress.”

“Oh, so when you were traded? Right around there?” he guesses.

I smile a bit.

“You follow my hockey?”

He grins back.

“Of course I do. How could I not when you’re playing the way you are?” he replies.

“It is kinda crazy, huh?”

“Insane,” he agrees with a nod. “But amazing. You’re amazing.”

I grin, looking down and picking at the blanket on my lap.

“Well, there was this thing that happened. In Boston. That got me traded,” I say quietly without looking up.

“I’m all ears,” he offers, so I tell him everything. _Everything_.

He’s pretty horrified by the end to say the least. I shrug every time he says something in outrage, because what else can I really do?

“I’m happy in Pittsburgh, though. Happier than I’d ever be in Boston, probably. It’s amazing there. Everyone’s so great. I’ll probably have a no trade clause by the end of the season,” I insist at the end of it all.

“Well, if you’re happy, that’s all that matters,” he concedes. “I still can’t believe that guy just…attacked you. It’s…that’s something you should be able to go to your parents about, and you couldn’t. It’s not fair.”

“Nothing about our family has ever been fair,” I argue. “No hats inside. They went through our texts whenever they pleased. They tracked our phones. I didn’t have a house key until I was eighteen and in college. They called me every night in college and went into full on panic mode if I didn’t answer. Mom pretended not to ever hear me every time I told her I didn’t want to be a doctor in high school, and had the audacity to pretend not to know what I’m talking about even to do this day. None of that was ever fair.”

That gives both of us pause. Hearing it all listed like that, all of the shit we’ve had to deal with for basically no reason, makes it sound a lot worse than when we were actually living it. There wasn’t a lot of chances to gain outward perspectives before getting out of the house for college, so everything just was what it was before then. I completely went off the rails in my parents’ eyes, “running off” to play in the NHL. Aidan got engaged to a woman our parents apparently don’t like, so he’s pushing back, as well. It’s easier to see how insane our childhoods were from the “other side.”

“Mom is making dinner, since, y’know, it’s Christmas eve, but how about we just go out to Alice’s Diner instead?” Aidan suggests, offering me a hand to get to my feet.

“She’s gonna be so pissed,” I say skeptically. “I don’t know…”

“Exactly,” Aidan agrees with a grin. “Should we invite Bray and Dyl?”

“Dad probably won’t let Dyl go,” I reply. “Can’t stop Brayden, though.”

I was right. Mom goes all red when we invite the two of them in the living room before disappearing back into the kitchen without a word. Dad gives Dylan a resounding “no” when he asks, but Brayden gets up and shoves on his boots.

I put the extensions back on in the car, and put the hat right back over it.

“You’re not a Rangers fan,” Brayden says from the back seat of Aidan’s car, scrunching up his nose. “That’s like, sacrilege, isn’t it?”

“That’s the point, Bray,” I reply with a wry smile. “Nobody expects Chris Holden to be in New York, wearing a Rangers beanie, and suddenly having a full head of hair.”

“Wow, so you have to plan everything like that out, then? When to be who and all that?” he asks.

“At least for now,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “A couple more years at the most. Just long enough to earn a good reputation.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Brayden replies, rolling his eyes a bit.

I sigh a little. Aidan might get it, but Brayden clearly doesn’t. That’s okay, though. Brayden’s hated sports since he was little.

“It’s more than worth it,” I murmur, looking out the window as Christmas-light wrapped streetlamps whip past. “I get to live my dream.”

Brayden doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that. He understands the concept of dreams, at the very least. He can identify with that. Aidan casts me a small smile from the driver’s seat, and I grin back.

_/ * \\_

  


Waking up on Christmas morning is a surreal experience. Aidan’s the one to knock on my door and drag me down the stairs into the living room. Dylan’s already sitting on the floor by the tree munching down on the same breakfast mom has made on Christmas morning since we were kids: bacon, French toast, and hash browns. I’m a little hesitant to go into the kitchen when she’s in there, but she doesn’t say anything when I do.

I make up my own plate as she sips silently at her coffee, gazing at me over the lip of her mug. Brayden and Aidan bracket me in on the couch while we eat. Dad clicks through channels on the TV before settling on the channel that’s playing A Christmas Story for the entire day. It’s a wonder that I’m not tired of that movie after seeing it so many times.

Dylan sits by the tree and hands out gifts. I’m handed a few, but none of them are from my parents. I’ll take what I can get, though. Dylan got me a set of watercolor paints. It’s been a long time since I’ve painted, but I thank him anyway because he went through the trouble of getting them and they really are nice. Brayden had his girlfriend knit me a really nice black and yellow scarf that’s so soft I can’t resist rubbing it against my face a few times. Aidan’s is a slender box wrapped in reindeer wrapping paper. Inside is a gold necklace chain with my number, 65, dangling off of it. It gives me serious Sidney Crosby vibes. My eyes grow suspiciously wet as I pull it out of it’s cushy box and gather it into the palm of my hand.

“Thank you,” I say seriously, dragging him into a hug.

“Figured it’s about time,” he says, smiling earnestly with a small shrug. “Everybody seems to have one. Decided to take a page out of mama and papa Crosby’s book.”

He takes it from me and I turn around so he can clip it around my neck. My parents watch on from the other end of the room, exchanging looks with each other like a silent conversation. I’m willing to bet a million dollars they don’t know who Sidney Crosby is, but they know what the words “mama” and “papa” mean.

“I’m not gonna hear the end of this, you know,” I say quietly, crumbling the wrapping paper up into a ball. “They already call me ‘baby Sid.’”

“They do? That’s adorable,” Aidan replies, huffing out a laugh. He tilts his head to the side and looks at me, narrowing his eyes. “You do kinda look like him.”

“No, she looks like _you_!” Dylan exclaims.

“That too,” Aidan agrees.

The rest of the morning goes fine. The boys like their gifts: a new Xbox controller and a card with too much cash for Dylan, a fancy stethoscope and thick socks with lions on them for Brayden, and a nice sweater along with a new pair of running shoes for Aidan. I got my mom a sweater, too, and my dad one of the complicated Lego sets he’s always liked. My parents look incredibly uncomfortable as they open their gifts, but my dad offers genuine thanks and a smile. My mom kind of grimaces a bit, but she manages to get thanks out, as well.

I still don’t have a lot of money yet. I’m on a PTO contract still, but I don’t plan on taking a lot of money when I resign with Pittsburgh, either. I don’t want to take up a lot of cap space. Money isn’t why I’m doing this. I’m still planning on mailing a few checks to the boys once I can, money for Brayden’s college and eventually Dylan’s. My parents make a pretty good living, but they have four kids they’ve put through college (or, _mostly_ through college, at the very least), so I’m sure a little help wouldn’t hurt.

I make the executive decision not to stick around for Christmas dinner with the family. It would just be awkward for everyone involved. Christmas morning was enough for me. I have the feeling that my mom would just use dinner time as another opportunity to argue, and I’m just not up for any more of that.

“You’re leaving already?” Brayden asks, genuinely confused as I’m clipping those annoying extensions back into my head in my bedroom. They were cute the first time, but having to clip them in every time I leave the house is getting old.

“Yeah. I don’t think staying for dinner is a good idea.”

“What do you mean not a good idea?” Dylan chirps from the hallway.

“Mom and dad don’t want me here, Dyl,” I reply. “You remember how mad they were when I dropped out of school to play hockey, right? I thought they’d have gotten over it at least a little by now, but they clearly haven’t. It’s okay, I wanted to visit my boyfriend before I head back to Pittsburgh, anyway.”

“Boyfriend? You have a boyfriend?” Aidan exclaims from where he’s sitting on my bed behind me.

“Oh, Christ,” I curse. “Yes, I do. He went to high school with me. Something…happened after a game in New Jersey, I was upset, and someone had given me his contact information so I figured, why the hell not. We were really good friends for a while and then, well, more than that eventually.” Aidan is looking at me knowingly since he aware of what actually happened in Jersey to “upset” me, but Brayden and Dylan are grinning, unaware. Dylan’s too young to have to know something so horrible, and Brayden has always been the most loyal to our parents, so he doesn’t need to know the whole story, either.

“So he’s a hockey player, them, huh?” Dylan asks.

“Yeah, he plays for the Devils,” I reply. “And no, you can’t tell anyone. Not even mom and dad.”

“Obviously,” Brayden scoffs.

“Is he nice to you?” Aidan asks, poking me in the back. “Hold your hand and respect you and all that shit?”

I snort, but nod.

“Oh, yeah. He knows that he’d have a gang of penguins on his ass if he didn’t. Plus you guys, now, apparently.”

“Hell yeah,” Dylan agrees emphatically, cracking his knuckles.

“Will we ever meet him?” Brayden asks, leaning against the doorframe to my bedroom. “Cause we met Amelia, and she’s really cool even though mom doesn’t seem to like her very much.”

“Of course you will,” I reply. “I’m not sure when, but you will. Maybe this summer?”

“Good. I’d like to threaten him,” Aidan says cheerily. I groan.

  


_/ * \\_

  


Aidan drives me to Jace’s place. I already texted Jace and arranged everything on his end, so now it’s just Aidan, me, and a twenty minute drive.

“He really treats you right?” Aidan asks, eyes on the road.

“Yeah,” I reply. “It probably has to do with how we became friends, how fucked up I was, and still am because of all that shit. He’s the only one who knows what happened with Volkov, and he went from stranger to overprotective bear in a matter of like, three hours.”

“At least someone was there to look out for you,” he says with a light sigh.

“He’s still looking out for me,” I reply. “It was either going with Sid or him for Christmas.”

“Sidney invited you to Christmas at his house?” he says incredulously.

“Sidney invited me to Christmas in Cole Harbour, with his family,” I reply. “I live with him.”

“You _live_ with Sidney Crosby?”

I giggle despite how crazy it does sound.

“Yeah. He offered when he found out I was gonna be living out of a hotel for a while,” I explain. 

“And you didn’t think that would be something interesting to mention?”

“I didn’t think you knew anything about hockey!” I exclaim, laughing loudly.

“Well, I didn’t know anything until we found out you were full on trying to go for the NHL. Figured it’s only right to at least know _some_ stuff about hockey. Crosby isn’t very easy to avoid when you’re trying to do that,” he explains.

“Oh, believe me, he knows,” I say. “And that’s sweet. At least one of you cared enough to do that. You watch my games?”

“Not all of them, but whenever I can,” he replies. “I’ve never seen you even raise your voice at someone, so when I say you punch some guy’s face in one night, I was a little surprised. Mel just shrugged when I said that and said ‘that’s hockey’ and then she bought your jersey.”

“She bought my jersey,” I repeat, deadpan.

He snickers a bit, flicking on the blinker to make a right turn.

“Yeah. Her best friend from college had a brother on the team, so they went to his games all the time. She was totally surprised when I told her my sister was in the NHL, didn’t believe me, but now we watch your games together,” he explains.

I’m smiling like an idiot by the time we pull up to Jace’s house. We never hung out in high school so I’ve never been here before, but it’s similar to ours with two floors and the same fake shutters on the windows.

“This is your stop,” Aidan jokes, putting his car in park. “Any idea when we’ll get to see you again?”

“Well, I’m not sure I’m coming back here for the summer. I can’t even…imagine coming here and staying for the three or four months. I’ll probably stay with Jace and visit Sid up in Nova Scotia. As for the holidays next year, sorry, but that’s probably a ‘no’, too. This was a nightmare. You and Bray and Dyl were great, so maybe we can do something on our own, but I’m not going back to that house if it means staying more than a few hours in total.”

“I understand that. Dylan might not, but I think the day after Christmas would be good for us to get together if you want,” he agrees, nodding solemnly.

“Yeah, that’ll definitely work.”

“And if you could answer our text messages from now on, that’d be cool, too,” he teases.

I sigh, fidgeting guiltily. I had muted all of their text threads when my mom started bombarding me with a bunch of cruel bullshit the night of my NHL debut. I’m not sure if she knew it was the night of my debut or just a coincidence, but it’s shitty either way. I was dealing with a lot back then to begin with, and I still am, so I can do without the added stress.

“I can do that,” I agree. “Sorry.”

“You were dealing with a lot,” he concedes. “Professional hockey is hard enough without having to pretend to be a different person and deal with a predator.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Someone taps on the passenger window. I look over and it’s Jace, smiling sheepishly on the other side of the glass. Aidan rolls the window down.

“Hi,” he chirps. “You must be…Aidan, right? Brayden’s got the blond hair.”

“That’s me,” Aidan says with a stiff nod. “You’re the boyfriend, then, huh.”

Jace casts me a mock betrayed look, hand over his heart, before nodding.

“Yeah, that’d be me. Jace,” he says, reaching a hand across me to shake Aidan’s.

“From what Cal’s told me, I don’t think you need much of a talk. We’ll just establish a blanket ‘they won’t find your body if you hurt her’ protocol and call it a day.”

“That sounds good,” Jace agrees, nodding good-naturedly.

“And some thanks are in order. I know she can take of herself, she’s definitely proven that,” he begins, side-eyeing me as I grin in agreement. “It’s good she had someone there for her through all that bullshit. And still.”

Jace nods seriously, leaning against the window lip of the car door.

“Of course,” he replies.

“Alright, then, kid,” Aidan says, clapping me on the shoulder. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

I snort, unbuckling my seatbelt and grabbing my backpack from the footwell beneath me. Aidan rolls up the window as I open the door, wishing him goodbye and promising to talk to him again soon. Jace and I watch as he drives away before heading up the front walkway to his house.

“He’s pretty cool,” he says, opening the front door.

“Yeah,” I agree. “Bray and Dylan don’t really get everything, but they’re cool too when things aren’t as weird as they are right now.”

I follow him inside, mentally preparing myself as I realize that I’m about to meet Jace’s family.

His mom and dad are sitting practically on top of each other in the living room, joking about something and laughing their asses off. His younger sister, Wendy, is looking on in amusement from the second part of the sectional and his younger brother, Skyler, is curled up in what looks like a well-loved armchair.

“Yo,” Jace says to call all of their attention. “This is Cal.”

They all turn to look and I try my best not to shrink in on myself, offering a small smile in greeting.

“Oh, wow, hey!” Skyler exclaims. “You didn’t tell us she was coming!”

“He’s kind of a fan,” Jace murmurs to me.

“And he’s been hounding Jay about bring you over,” Wendy chimes in, because apparently Jace didn’t say it quietly enough. My face heats up a bit.

“Is he a fan of yours?” I ask, turning to look at Jace. He narrows his eyes playfully at me.

“I mean, maybe not as much as he is of you,” he reasons. I grin, shoving him lightly.

“It’s nice to meet you guys,” I say, finally addressing the entirety of his family.

“You too, honey,” his mom replies.

“Yeah, we’re especially happy that Jace’s finally brought a woman home,” his dad chirps.

I snort.

“He got you a gift,” Wendy says, turning around to send me a knowing grin.

“What? No. I didn’t get you anything,” I complain.

“You didn’t need to, I just figured why not, it’s not really a big deal, swear,” Jace rambles from beside me.

“Alright, don’t pull a muscle,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You need them to carry your team to the playoffs.”

He gasps in fake outrage as his two siblings erupt into laughter.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” I say.

“This is just rude. No gift for you anymore, it’s canceled,” he says.

“No! C’mon, I love presents. It’s not my fault half your team never seems to mentally show up,” I continue.

“Alright, you, let’s go,” he says, grabbing me wrist and tugging me along lightly to the stairs leading to the second floor.

“It better be a physical gift, buddy,” I say as he guides me into his bedroom. “I’m not that kinda lady. No holding hands til’ the tenth date.”

He leaves his door cracked, probably out of habit more than anything, and heads towards his dresser. I sit on the edge of his bed, picking at the bright blue pillowcases while I wait. He comes to sit beside me with a tiny box in his hand.

“It’s kinda stupid,” he says quietly. “I was thinking maybe to get you a necklace, you know, with the heavy chain so it won’t break during games. I know it’s not, like, a requirement, but a lot of players wear them with the crosses and numbers or whatever. I wasn’t sure if you’d want one, so I did this instead. If I’m, I don’t know, overstepping here, lemme know.” He’s rambling, swiping a hand through his hair.

He hands me the box. I pull the lid off to reveal a silver necklace, the chain thin and dainty like the things I wore before becoming a full-time pretend-boy, with a charm of the number ‘22’ attached.

“Aidan…just got me one of those heavy chain necklaces. You wouldn’t mind if I put your number on it, would you?” I say quietly. “So, you know, I could take you along everywhere I go?”

He grins.

“Really? Of course it’s okay,” he replies. “I’m not just happy it’s not weird.”

“I feel like I’ve know you forever, Jay,” I murmur. “It’s definitely not weird.”

“People might ask questions about it,” he says a little more seriously.

“I don’t care,” I reply. “It’ll be tucked away in my shirt most of the time, anyway. Not like I’ll be walking around shirtless anytime soon.”

“Alright, then,” he agrees. “Let’s see this new necklace.”

I unclasp the necklace Aidan got me and drops it into Jace’s waiting palm. The chain and my number are gold and Jace’s number is silver, but I couldn’t care less.

“Now I’m gonna get you a gold charm of my number, and we’ll match,” I say, grinning as he slips the silver charm onto the gold chain and clasps it back around my neck.

“You better,” he chirps back.

  


_/ * \\_

  


Christmas dinner with the Thomas’ is great. His mom made honey glazed ham and mashed potatoes to die for. His dad made corn bread stuffing and an assortment of vegetables to choose from. They’re chipper, too, joking and nudging each other around the kitchen as everyone helps themselves. Christmas dinner usually ends in a huge argument between my mom and dad every year. Actual dinner is usually an incredibly awkward affair.

“So you guys went to high school together?” his father asks.

“Yeah,” I reply, mixing my mashed potatoes with the gravy I poured over them. “We weren’t friends or anything back then. We knew _of_ each other back then, though, and one of the guys I played in college with was friends with him in high school. Eric, you guys know him. He basically forced me to take Jace’s number ‘just in case,’ so I had it in my phone whether I wanted it there or not.”

“What made you contact him, then?” Skyler asks from across the table.

“He tried to check me in our first game against each other and completely missed. It was hilarious. I couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to tease him about it,” I reply. The part about the check was true, but I obviously didn’t contact him because of it. We probably never would’ve become friends if I didn’t text him out of sheer desperation, which is a terrifying thought. He’s my best friend, now. I can’t imagine how my season would be going right now if he wasn’t involved like he is.

“I remember that!” Wendy exclaims. “Oh my god, Sportsnet posted a separate video dedicated to it that night, I kept texting him the link.”

“And I ignored them,” Jace says, pretending to be annoyed. “Because that’s not what a supportive sister does.”

“That is _exactly_ what a supportive sister does,” I argue. He looks over me, feigning betrayal.

We pile all of our dishes into the dishwasher and his dad starts a load. Everyone pretends not to see the dirty pots and pans in the sink, which is a breath of fresh air. I spent every night after Christmas dinner doing the dishes by hands because our mom always broke out the delicate dishes to eat off of that couldn’t go through the dishwasher.

The Polar Express is on TV when we all settle back into the living room. I cozy up into Jace’s side, tucking my socked feet under his thigh to warm them up. He pulls the fleece blanket down off the back of the couch and drapes it over the pair of us, smiling when I look up and to the side at him.

It’s all really comfortable and nice. The whole “all is calm” part of Christmas finally seems to make sense. I really don’t mean to, I’m really enjoying the movie and just getting to exist in this moment in time right now, but I end up falling asleep.

Jace shakes me awake halfway through another movie.

“Let’s go to bed,” he says softly. I agree, sleepy and docile as he leads me upstairs. I only realize no one made a big deal of the two of us sharing a room for the night, let alone a bed, when I’m already being deposited under his comforter.

“Your family’s’really nice,” I murmur, turning onto my side as he kicks off his jeans.

“I’m glad you like them,” he replies, smiling dopily. I sit up to take my own pants off, struggling with sluggish fingers.

“I can’t believe your brother is my number one fan,” I say smugly, laying back down and scooting until I’m only an inch away from Jace’s chest.

“He’s a center with a good handful of penalty minutes. There aren’t really fights in juniors anymore, but he’ll be down once he gets to the Show,” he explains.

“He’ll do good, then,” I say. “Everybody likes a well-rounded player like that.”

He snorts and shoves me lightly before grabbing me and pulling me in closer. He presses a quick kiss to my forehead before tugging his big heavy comforter over us.

“Thanks for having me over today,” I murmur, shifting until my head is resting against his chest. “I tried the whole family thing, but I can only hear that my choice of career is too violent and a waste of everyone’s time for so long.”

“Of course,” he replies, running his hand through my short hair. “I explained a little bit of the situation, and they all like you, so my family’s yours if you want. No matter what.”

I grin a little to myself. His parents are so nice and cool. His mom, Sabrina, is a second grade teacher and exudes the exact kind of positive energy you’d expect someone with that job to. His dad, Jamie, bounced between the NHL and the AHL for about 9 years before retiring to work comfortably at a hardware store. Wendy wants to be a go to college for art and they don’t even care. There’s no expectation of doing exactly what their parents do for a living.

“You can have my family too,” I say, eyes sliding shut. “Just my brothers. Parents are canceled.”

“Okay, Cal,” he says, huffing a laugh. “Let’s get some sleep.”


End file.
